


Karkat ==> Brood at your uncle's for an entire summer

by PennamePersona



Series: Clinic AU [6]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: 4/13, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Angst, Backstory, Clinic AU, F/M, Gen, Humanstuck, M/M, No Game AU, No Johnkat in this one either, This is before the clinic was even a thing, pale feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 18:49:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3739585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PennamePersona/pseuds/PennamePersona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Change can really hurt, which Karkat knew before this particular disaster. It's not just the ending that he hates, it's what comes with the ending. He just needs time to process it, really, he's going to be perfectly okay.</p><p>Except maybe not quite?</p><p>It's hard losing people who were close to you. It's hard, and Karkat isn't sure if he wants to find out if anyone understands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Karkat ==> Brood at your uncle's for an entire summer

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I finished this on Friday, I was going to post it on Saturday (I forgot), and then yesterday I realized (after forgetting again for most of the day) that I could post it today and have the timing be awesome!  
> Happy 4/13 everybody!! 
> 
> This fic has Karkat backstory that I've had as an idea for a while, and I'm glad to have it done and existing. The timeline for this verse isn't totally figured out in my head yet, but this fic takes place a little while after Karkat formally parted ways with Gamzee. It hasn't been that long since Gamzee landed himself in the hospital, and now that the school year is over, Karkat is left with nothing preventing him from dealing with the hurt (aside from himself, that is).
> 
> Anyway, here it is, the sixth installment of the Clinic AU!

 

Yeah, okay, fine, but you're _not_ fucking brooding, no matter what Porrim and Nepeta say. You're just recovering, okay?

 Admittedly, by "recovering," you mean not dealing with your problems at all, but hey. Everyone has their own system, right?

Nope, you're done with this train of thought. This train of thought can go fuck itself in the ass with a spiked rail, you're just done with it and with Porrim and Nepeta and with Kanaya's stupid caring and with Kankri and his existence and with Sollux and how you haven't kept up with him lately and that's probably hurt him and most of all you're done with _fucking Gamzee_ -

NOPE NOT GOING THERE

 You pull a blanket over your head. It's two in the afternoon, but you don't think that today is a day that will manage to coax you out of your room, much less the bed, so you may as well remain comfortable. You know that your aunt and uncle (and the rest of your family, including those who may as well be family, even if you could _technically_ have children with them, but ew, that would be gross and it'd feel incestuous regardless) would prefer that you come out of your room, but unlike the others, they don't push.

 Well.

They don't push the same way. Your aunt comes into your room (alright, it isn't exactly _your_ room, it's a guest room, but it's the guest room that you've always used when visiting, and you'll be staying in it for the whole summer, so for all intents and purposes, it's your damn room), sits on the edge of the bed, and combs her fingers through your hair. She doesn't say much, really, just fills the room with her comforting presence, and you know that she'd listen to anything you had to say. She's always listened to you, no matter what you were talking about, and you've always felt safe confessing to her. 

You've barely spoken to anyone, and you've been here two and a half weeks. 

You think that you're hurting her with your silence.

You don't really want to think about that, either.

Your uncle is a bit different in his approach. Your aunt listens, but your uncle speaks. That isn't to say that your aunt can't make statements and weave her words well, or that your uncle can't sit and listen carefully and give excellent advice, because both of them certainly can do those things. It's more that your aunt listens first, and your uncle speaks first.

Which means that when you showed up at his house, as previously planned (you're a college student with the option of free room and board, of course you took it, nevermind the fact that you love the fuck out of your aunt and uncle and you really, really wanted to come here as soon as shit started going down with Gam NO DONE THERE NO THINKING ABOUT THAT), you know, you just _know_ , that your uncle took one look at you and had at least half of a speech planned out.

After all, Kankri is his father's son, even if he is ten thousand times more irritating. Though he has gotten somewhat less terrible over the years, and according to Kanaya, when she speaks through the door that you refuse to open, he's downright tolerable now.

Kanaya, who comes and knocks on your door _every damn day_ , which nearly breaks you in half every time, but you say nothing, you say nary a fucking word, because if you started speaking, you'd scream, and then there would you be? Where would she be? You don't want to dump all of your bullshit on her, don't want to drive her away, what if it is your fault that Gamzee 

_Noooooooooooooooooooooooooope not going there either_

Augh. This is bullshit. This is absolute fucking bullshit. And despite hating the direction that all of this is going, you cannot bring yourself to change a damn thing, everything already too cemented in your mind, even the smallest parts of you too afraid to move.

You roll your head onto the pillow, blocking out what little light has managed to filter underneath the curtains and the door. If a few tears fall from your eyes, then it doesn't matter, and you can pretend that you're fine. You're fine. You're totally fine. You're completely fine.

Who are you kidding? You can't even fool yourself.

A single knock at the door jars you into alertness (you could ignore it if you wanted to, but you don't really want to be left alone, you wish that you could stop pushing them away but if you don't then you'll be left vulnerable and open and nooooooooooope just stop for now, brain, alright?). Whoever it is doesn't wait for your response, opening the door, stepping in, and apparently not closing the door, as you're missing the distinctive click. 

"Karkat," You hear, and fuck, it's your uncle. He's gotten his speech worked out in his head, now you're in for it, he's going to break you apart with words, you just know it. And it's really going to work because you've been desperate to talk about all of this, you've just also been desperate _not_  to talk about it, and the closest you've gotten to comfort has been your aunt stroking your hair and it's only left you wanting more and

_Oh they're fucking clever_ , you'd bet real money that they planned this, and you're all but fucking broke. Shit. They are way too understanding and loving, you'd like to lodge a complaint, your family cares far too much about you. Definitely not okay.

"Karkat." He says again, prodding at the top of your head. He's going to make you look at him when he lectures you, augh, this is the worst thing, the very worst thing. Can't he just leave you to decay here on this bed?

Although, it is his bed, so you suppose you can understand why he wouldn't want the rotting corpse of his nephew on the sheets. He'd probably have to burn on principle, even if the smell did come out.

You turn to look at him, push yourself into a sitting position against the pillows. Painful as this is likely to be, he's going to make some good points, so you may as well listen carefully.

He looks at you, nothing but seriousness in his eyes, eyes that seem like they haven't changed at all since you were young enough to still be held up close to his face, since you'd sit on his lap and listen to his words, stories, advice, since you could still cry on his shoulder.

"You need to rely on other people for help." He says, then bends down to kiss your forehead. "I love you, Karkat."

He walks out of the room, leaves the door open about a foot.

...

What? What the fucking hell?! That's it, that's all, that's what you get?? No long speech tied in with stories of his past, no lecture flaying you raw, no heartfelt advice that's likely to cause you to grow as a person more than you ever could have when left to your own devices?

Except. Maybe he did flay you raw, maybe he did give you heartfelt advice, and maybe this does tie into his past. You know where your anger comes from, you know your father and you've seen how the rage fits him just about the same as it does you. He never lashed out on you, not more than he had to just to be a parent, he's a good father even if he can't handle words the same way that his brother can, but he's always known how to relate to your anger, always encouraged you, always protected you. You know that your uncle has that same anger, even if you rarely see it, and that's the key, isn't it? Your uncle and your father aren't so different in some ways, and you inherited the emotional problems that they share. You've seen it in your father for ages, and it meant that he had the potential to raise you and understand your problems, and he did, he really did, he always tried his best for you, but in your uncle, you see peace and compassion more than rage and fear.

Why is that? What has your uncle done so differently from your father?

"Karkat?" Another voice comes from the door, a fingernail tapping lightly, barely asking for entry. Oh no, not this, you can't face this, not now, you've done enough thinking for today, come back tomorrow, or also never, yeah, that works, come back never, please.

But Kanaya steps into the room anyway, and you can see the hesitance in her eyes even in the dim lighting. It breaks your heart a little. You and Kanaya have always been close, part of the same family. She's been a constant in your life, a beautiful, compassionate, nosey, meddling rock, and you wouldn't trade her for the world.

But Gamzee was like a crazy mess of a rock, and you thought he'd be a constant, thought that he'd keep showing you a different side of life, maybe someday bringing you all the way out of the shell you've been building for as long as you can remember, and look how that turned out.

You open your mouth with nothing to say, which is rare for you. You decide that you dislike speechlessness intensely. You'd generally rather spit pointlessly antagonistic venom than seem off-guard.

"Come with me, please." She says, and the hesitance is still there, obvious in the 'please'. Kanaya can be kind, can be selfless, but she also knows how to put her foot down and hold onto the phrase "it's for your own good."

You're almost positive that you're going to be experiencing the latter.

You push yourself off the bed, waiting for words to come to you, waiting for a remark, for anything, but instead, all you have is a feeling of nervousness, of a slight fear, of a disconnect with reality.

You follow Kanaya, barefoot and wearing only a too large shirt and sweatpants. You know this house like you know your own, since even though your father's house was your childhood home, this was partly home, too. There are windows enough that nearly the entire house can be lit with natural light on good days, but curtains thick enough that on days when the sun is too bright, it can filter through shades of blue and green and red and brown and lend a peaceful, soothing quality to the atmosphere.

Today, the curtains are pulled to the side, and the windows are open. There is a slight breeze, and the air is just about perfect. Kanaya leads you outside, onto the deck, and sits beneath the the curtained-off gazebo space. You follow her, sit down, and find that you still have no words.

"If you keep up like this, it won't just be Gamzee having breakdowns." She says, looking over at you. A thousand thoughts fly through your mind, and you aren't sure which to focus on and process. You think that you could figure out what she's thinking right now, if you tried, but you aren't sure you want to. You aren't sure who she means, who she expects to start having problems, if it's you or her or someone else in your family, you don't know if you want to know any of this.

What you do want are words, and somehow, amazingly, your fucked up, half-mush, half-fried mind manages something.

"...what the _fuck_ , Kanaya?" Comes out of your mouth, sounding half-choked and grating, like you haven't spoken for days or like you've worn your voice thin by speaking too much (screaming into your pillow).

"I'm not letting you brood in that room all summer!" She says, defensiveness in every inch of her posture. You do know exactly what she's thinking now. She's trying to do what she thinks is best, but she's been called out for meddling where she isn't wanted so many damn times that it's been ingrained into her, you'd bet that she can clearly hear voices in her head telling her to quit, to leave you alone, she's obviously not wanted. 

If you aren't careful, your voice is going to join them.

"I'm not brooding!" You exclaim, and wow, it feels good to yell. Anger is either an incredibly intense secondary response, or just flat out your first instinct. You've been restricting yourself for longer than even these past couple of weeks, trying to balance exams and Gamzee and all of the stress that came with both of them, so now, letting yourself just _react_  to something feels so fucking incredible, like a ridiculously heavy weight has been lifted off of you just before the point of crushing you to death.

Besides, you're fed the fuck up of being accused of brooding. You can hear what people say when they talk just outside the door, you don't even have to try to make out their voices. Porrim probably figures that it's her damned duty to stand there and try to infuriate you into response, talking all passive-aggressively as if she doesn't know you hear her, then getting sick of that and rapping loudly on the door, straight up asking when the hell you're going to quit brooding and join your fucking family, asshole.

And then there's Nepeta, guilt-tripping you without even _trying_ (you think), and it isn't fucking fair, dammit! Come out of the room to piss, get a drink of water, and there she is, worriedly looking at you, sweet hazel eyes all melty with concern, saying shit like "We all miss you, Karkitty," and "I know you're hurt, but brooding won't make you feel better fur long!", which just, no, you're not fucking handling that, you're speed-walking away, forget the glass of water, who cares if your throat is drier than beef jerky left in the desert during the dry season, you aren't having "Death by Nepeta" on your fucking gravestone.

"Then please, by all means, enlighten me to exactly what it is that you _are_ doing?" Kanaya asks, keeping most (some) of the snark out of her voice, or at least making an attempt, for which you commend her. She is stronger than you.

"I'm just fucking. Processing. And shit." You say, refusing to look her in the eyes, not needing to look to know the expression on her face is a perfect example of an unspoken snark + stink eye x2 combo.

"Oh yes, I'm sure that's it." She says, and wow, not even trying anymore, there's snark lacing every damn word. "I'm certain that you're doing your absolute best to process your emotions and that you're  _not_ avoiding both said emotions and the people who care about you. That sounds exactly like what you'd do."

You spring up from your seat and turn towards her, anger welling up in you, even though she's right, mouth open and ready to scream at her to leave you the _fuck_ alone, that you never _asked_ for her meddling, that you don't _want_ her sticking her nose into your business, but then.

Then, for one blessed moment in your life, for one truly _miraculous_ (ouch) moment, you think before you speak.

You shut your mouth.

You sit back down.

You put your head in your hands and let your shoulders slump in defeat.

You swallow your fucking pride, and that's honestly what it fucking feels like, it leaves a taste in your mouth that you are unaccustomed to and that only people from previous generations, or those attempting to bring back turns of phrase that died _for a good damned reason_ , would probably refer to as the taste of "humble pie."

"You're right." You say, looking straight down at the space between your feet. "You're right, and I'm sorry."

Kanaya doesn't say anything. There is nothing but silence next to you, and even though you've been sitting in nothing but silence for two fucking weeks, suddenly it's far too much for you to handle. Your tears start to fall, and once they start, you don't know how to stop them, you just know that you're sobbing and that Kanaya is suddenly right next to, holding you, you're both kneeling on the floor of the deck and you're sobbing into her shoulder, her hand is rubbing circles on your back and she's making soothing sounds, the kind of hushing reserved for small children and maybe you qualify as an equivalent in this state, but regardless, it does actually help.

"It...fucking... _hurts_ ," You choke out, each word forced past the lump in your throat, the pain feeling real and physical and agonizing in your chest.

"Shhh, shoosh, Karkat," Kanaya says quietly, one hand moving to your hair, massaging your head and wow, that feels good, she can do that forever if she wants, you won't argue. "I know it hurts, I know. Shhhh."

And you do hush. You run out of tears, your body spasms quiet, as does the rest of you, and though you know that you probably look disgusting right now, dried tears and snot all over your face (all over Kanaya's shirt, too, as soon as she's out of mother mode she'll probably kill you for that, except no, she won't, because she does care about you more than her clothes, doesn't she, and that's sort of a powerful feeling), and yet, you can't deny the relief coursing through you, the result of a good cry.

"Is...was it my fault?" You ask, voice quiet more out of the roughness of your throat than conscious decision.

"Oh," Kanaya makes a sympathetic, pitying noise. "Karkat."

She pulls your head up so that you're looking her in the eyes.

"No," She shakes her head, jade green eyes completely full of compassion. "What happened to Gamzee was not your fault at all. Yes, he was your friend, yes, you two were very close, but he is still his own person. Gamzee had his own mental issues completely apart from his...recreational activities, which didn't really seem to make them any better. You tried to help him, Karkat, but the path he decided to take wasn't one that allowed for it."

You nod. You know that she's right, but...

"I know." You say. "But it still hurts."

"I'm so sorry, Karkat." She says, and then you're hugging again, except this time, you're an actual participant in the embrace. You hold her tight, her warmth comforting you, keeping you grounded.

"Thank you, Kanaya," You whisper into her skin. She squeezes you tighter in response.

"You're welcome." She says, and you think that you can hear the smile in her voice. "Anytime." 

* * *

 "Okay, okay, I don't want to hear it. I'm out of my room, I think that's enough for today, no snide commentary needed." You announce as you walk into the dining room, freshly showered, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, and feeling cleaner than you have in weeks. The look of surprise on everyone's face is almost comical, but you know that they're all exaggerating for your benefit.

"Oh, we would _never_ ," Porrim says, sarcastic little smile sitting easily on her lips.

"Yeah, sure," You say, rolling your eyes and sitting down between Kanaya and Meulin. "What are you even doing here, anyway?"

"Wow, rude," She scoffs. "If you must know, Kanaya and I have been helping Kankri to prepare  _tasteful_ decorations for his graduation party."

"And I've been helping Meulin with some of her summer school work!" Nepeta adds with a grin.

"I really can't argue with vetoing Kankri's poor, unfortunate taste," You say, and smirk when you see Kankri take in a very deep breath, as though attempting to keep himself from an outburst. Practically tolerable, maybe, but still just as easy to rile up.

"Karkat," Your uncle says, a warning plain in his tone. "We're all glad that you've finally decided to join us, but please, don't start an argument already."

"Yes, Uncle Kalo," You sigh exaggeratedly. There's a small smile on your face. It feels good to smile, to be around your family. It's been a long couple of months, and you think that you are more than ready to shed some of the stress and enjoy the company.

"So, Meulin, how were your finals?" You ask, signing the question along with your words, probably clumsily. Meulin doesn't seem to mind though, judging by the the pleased smile she gives you.

"Way easier than first semester!" She says and signs, just a bit too loud for the situation. "I think I'll be able to get caught up this summer!"

"Nice," You say and sign. "You've really bounced back. Congratulations." 

She grins at you, and you can't help but respond to that happy, toothy smile. You remember Meulin right before the accident, remember her right after the accident, remember how much pain all of you were in because of the pain she was in. You're glad beyond words (and your limited ability to honestly and accurately express positive emotions) that she's doing so much better.

"So, Karkat," Kankri starts up, folding his hands on the table in front of him. You see Meulin rolling her eyes at her brother already, and even though he's apparently become more bearable, you really don't feel like dealing with Kankri's lectures tonight.

"Kanny?" Porrim says from her spot next to him. 

"Yes, Porrim?" Kankri says, sass lightly lacing his tone. 

"Shut up." Porrim says, voice as deadpan as her face.

Kankri looks irritated, opens his mouth, and your aunt lays a hand on his arm.

"Kankri, it is probably best if you leave Karkat be for tonight," She says, then looks at Porrim, eyebrows raised slightly. "And that was rude, Porrim, even if it was also good advice."

"My apologies, Aunt Disa." Porrim says, lips curving into a satisfied smirk. Kankri's lips are pursed together tightly. You barely prevent your own from spreading into a smile at the scene. It's been awhile since you had the pleasure of watching Porrim and Kankri together. They never really disappoint.

When the meal is through and you are drying dishes while Meulin washes them, you feel an odd sense of peace go through you. You think that maybe, after your birthday, you'll spend a few weeks with your dad. You saw him during spring break, and you do communicate with him fairly often, but you think that the relative quiet of your father's house, of your childhood home, would do you good.

"Are you going to bounce back soon?" Meulin asks, quieter than usual, and you can tell she's making an effort. It touches you, even though you and Meulin aren't particularly close. Sometimes the reminders of what happened to her do that, even though you know that your family would rather have her deaf and happy, living up to her potential, than hearing perfectly and still stuck in that mess. 

"I..." You turn to her directly, trying to think about what to say. Your hands are busy drying dishes, so you'll have to be clear with your words (she really is fantastic at lipreading). "I don't know, Meulin."

"If I could do it, you can." She says. You feel shame gather in your stomach.

"I'm sorry," You say, because you didn't think of Meulin and how she'd been hurt, you didn't think of your cousin who had been wounded far worse than you, who knew exactly what it was to be close to a Makara and suffer the consequences.

"Don't be," She says, still just a bit too quiet. "I understand."

You set down the plate that you're drying and hug her. You and Meulin really aren't that close, not compared to some of your other family, so even though you do love her and you are proud of her for doing all that she's had to do and more, you aren't usually very touchy-feely with her.

But Meulin is right. She does understand. She understands better than anyone else in your family could. She's felt what you're feeling, and she remembers it well. It wasn't so long ago that she was still with Kurloz, wasn't so long ago that she got hurt, wasn't so long at all, in some ways. But she pulled through, and now she's doing better than she possibly could have with him.

Meulin puts her arms around you, holds you right back. You trace the letters "T H A N K Y O U" onto her back, the way that you all had to do right after the accident, when her hearing was gone and only a handful of you knew any sign language at all, and she squeezes you tighter (damn near knocks the breath out of you, fuck, you forget how strong she and Nepeta are sometimes and then this shit happens). 

The two of you go back to the dishes, stay in relative silence. It's nice, you think, to be with your family.

You think that again when you're in bed later that night, staring up at the ceiling, as you've done for years. You feel better than you have in weeks, and you think that yes, you _can_ recover from this. 

And you will.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I hoped everyone enjoyed that! Longest one-shot I've written, and I think it turned out pretty well!
> 
> A thank you to my wonderful friend who knows who she is. She's a good part of the reason why I keep writing this verse, her enthusiasm is absolutely amazing and definitely useful for motivation. Thank you so much, lovely. :)
> 
> On that thread, comments and kudos are both very much appreciated, and comments especially give me motivation to write this verse. I'm attached to it, my friend is into it, and though both of those things help, knowing that there's an audience that reads it and enjoys it helps substantially to push me into writing more.
> 
> I'm not really lacking ideas. I've got some ideas bouncing around, and no lack of possibilities for more. Seriously, Karkat's family on its own is more than enough for possibilities. Some of the ideas I have don't focus on John and Karkat, in fact, I've got ideas about the Signless and his crew back when they were Karkat's age. Let me know if you like that idea, please, because I think it might be fun to write.
> 
> Anyway, as always, you're more than welcome to leave any questions/comments both here and at my tumblr: pennamepersona.tumblr.com
> 
> And once again, happy 4/13!
> 
> [Buy me a coffee!](https://ko-fi.com/A375K8Q)


End file.
